I Need A Hero
by xo-Once In A Blue Moon-xo
Summary: Bella Swan has had enough with the constant heartbreak that comes with being in love with her best friend, the ladies man, Edward Cullen. As she climbs to the top of the La Push cliffs, she tells us why there's no hope anymore. Not sad so read and review!
1. Easy Way Out

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

**Hey guys. I've been feeling guilt ridden and apprehensive lately so I decided to write this story. No, I'm not going all suicidal and whatnot, it's just that I've been under a lot of stress lately and need something passionate and angsty to write about. P****lease listen to the songs that I have lyrics from in this story; they're all fantastic. **

_There's no escape for you except in someone else  
Although you've already disappeared within yourself  
The invisible man who's always changing clothes  
It's all about taking the easy way out for you I suppose_

_Easy Way Out- Elliot Smith-Figure 8_

_Song name-Artist-Album_

**Chapter One- Easy Way Out**

The size of the cliffs frighten me, I'll admit. I recall Jacob Black telling me they are as tall as Superman, Ride of Steel, one of the tallest roller coasters ever. 208 feet up. But he was exaggerating. They're only 150 feet up which is just so much better. If you jump off at that height, you die; no question about it. Especially if you fall onto the black rocks jutting out awkwardly from the water. And somehow if you manage to escape the rocks with only broken limbs, then you can drown in the water! How delightful!

But drowning or hitting the rocks is really what I'm banking on right now. The water foams angrily, not unlike a big dog with rabies.

It's stormy and the wind howls, blowing my hair about and making my pale, sickly, skinny form shudder, as I'm not wearing a sweater. As a matter of fact, I'm only wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not even any shoes to protect my fragile feet from the shards of broken shell littering the beach. I'm giving the rest of my clothes to charity, as some sort of final act of kindness.

You may be wondering why I'm standing here in the middle of a storm with no shoes on contemplating the enormity of some rocks. I've asked myself the same question several times now and my answer is always _him._ Yes, _him._ Oh, you don't know who I'm talking about do you? _Him_ (please note the emphasis on HIM) is Edward Cullen.

Edward Cullen is, without a doubt, the single most complex, most beautiful, most frustrating person I have ever met. You may now be wondering why such a perfect being is the cause of my imminent jump to my doom. To answer your question, he's not. Well, not completely, anyway. There are plenty of contributing factors, of course; all depressed people have more than one reason to kill themselves.

I'm not some desperate, lovesick teenager like everyone in my life seems to think.

I'm misunderstood.

Okay, that's a crap excuse but you have to understand here; I am in love with Edward Cullen and he is not in love with me and nobody seems to give a shit… did I mention that I'm not desperate?

I'm not the most popular person around as you can probably see from my thrice broken "hipster" glasses, my baggy Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt, and jeans that don't show off my ass as well as they used to, but does that really matter in love? Obviously. What, you think I'm a dumbass or something? That, my children, is an important fact of life.

Edward Cullen is the most coveted boyfriend ever. He brings you roses and kisses you on the cheek your first date and doesn't even attempt to get in your pants until the tenth. (I learned this information by eavesdropping on Tanya and her cronies in gym.)

Tanya was Edward's last "girlfriend". That one only lasted a week. Edward told me she was too clingy and arrogant. The main reason, though, was that she had been cheating on him with three other guys.

By now, and I know I've been saying this a lot but, you're probably asking yourself why the hell I'm in love with some popular guy who I've probably only talked to in first grade when everyone was genderless. Well, all you bitches are wrong.

Edward Cullen, in addition to being the world's greatest boyfriend, is the world's greatest best friend. My best friend.

I know him inside and out. I know him forwards and backwards. I know him east to west. I know him. Period.

He doesn't care about my popularity status. But would he date me? No. Because he doesn't want to ruin our friendship? Because my boobs aren't big enough? Because of some other fucked up reason? If you guessed all of the above, you are correct. He's shallow. But you know what? Everyone is shallow. It's an impossibility to go through life without meeting a person who is shallow because every single person on God's green earth is fucking shallow.

Hell, even I am! I didn't go to the dance with Eric Yorkie because he has zits the size of Montana on his oily face. And because I find him odd.

But back to the point. Edward Cullen is not the only factor that has contributed to my soon-to-be death. He is merely the last straw, the flint that sparked my decision, if you will.

Sorry to bore you to death, but in order to understand we have to start from the beginning. The very beginning.

My parents always fought. While they were dating, during the wedding rehearsal, during the _wedding_, when Mom was pregnant with me, and all the time up to when I was five, give or take a few years. Why didn't they break up before then? Who the hell knows? My personal opinion is that they were both naïve and thought arguing that much was normal, but, like I said, who the hell knows?

When they got divorced, Renee (aka: Mom) dragged me to Phoenix, Arizona, land of the dead dirt. There I stayed, only going back up to Forks for occasional visits to Charlie (Dad). I was forced to grow up quickly, as Renee was as free spirited as the wind and needed someone to look after her and that someone was me.

That is contributing factor number one. I've always resented Renee for taking away my childhood, my freedom. While she went out and partied, I was forced to cook dinner all by my lonesome. When she came home, occasionally with some guy, I locked myself in my room and read. I became a bite sized adult with Dora sneakers. I have always hated Renee for being a child, replacing each year of her supposed "womanhood" with my childhood. I was left with nothing.

Right now, you're probably feeling some inkling of pity for me, now that you've gotten over the ridiculousness of my situation and my attitude. Well, erase that pity. Stamp on it with stilettos for all I care because I don't want it.

I'm merely explaining why I'm about to jump off a cliff that will surely kill me.

When I finally moved back to Forks at age seventeen, that's when I met Edward. I remember the day we met very clearly in my mind.

There was some trivial class I was running to on my first day. I realized after I had walked in the opposite direction for three minutes that my map was flipped the wrong way and that my class was on the other side of the school. As I was running, looking at my feet as always, because you never know what you'll slip on, I ran into _him._

"Shit!" he cried out loudly, attracting a few glares from some teachers. I groaned, my head ringing.

"EDDIE-BOO!" a high, squeaky, unappealing voice screamed. "Oh my goodness gravy, are you alright?" He mumbled something that I couldn't understand and rose slowly to his feet.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU COULD HAVE RUINED HIS FOOTBALL CAREER WITH THAT STUNT!" the girl screeched, reminding me of the Superb Lyrebird, thought to be one of the loudest birds in the world.

"Gee, I'm so sorry!" I groaned sarcastically. "You know, so many stupid people bank on football as their career choice. I'd hate to think that I ruined "Eddie-Boo's" future by causing a bruise on his shoulder!"

The girl hissed menacingly but then the man chuckled loudly. I automatically turned to the noise and saw the most delicious, gorgeous, beautiful creation I had ever seen. His disheveled bronze hair, those green eyes that shined like emeralds, and a six pack that clearly showed through his T-shirt made me want to drool. In fact, I'm pretty sure I did.

"My name is Edward Cullen," he introduced himself, completely ignoring his outraged girlfriend. "You must be the new girl, Isabella Swan. Am I correct in my assumption?" His words sort of melted together in a melody that reminded me of honey and melted chocolate. His grammar was impeccable and his word choice seemingly from another era.

And that was how we met. He walked me to my next class, blowing off his girlfriend whose name I would later learn was Lauren, and offered me a seat at his lunch table which I readily accepted. I realized what a big deal this was from Angela who was within earshot when he invited me.

"Edward Cullen asked _you _to sit with him? Oh my God!" I was ready to call her out on the disgusting disbelief in her voice when I remembered Charlie's words that morning.

"_Hey, Bells?" he said from across the table, finally putting down the sports section from the newspaper._

"_Yes, Dad?" I answered like the very polite, non-disturbingly stubborn daughter I am (in his presence)._

"_Please, for your sake, try not to be so… abrasive."_

I had been annoyed for a little bit, thinking I was in no way _"abrasive"_ but then I realized the truth of his words. Oh, shut up! Timothy Green had it coming!

Who's Timothy Green? Well, in third grade, Timothy called me fat. Charlie brought me to that self-defense class for a reason. If some punk ass third grader verbally abuses you, you have the right to kick and/or punch them in the balls. Let's just say I don't think Timothy Green be making any babies in the near future.

Later that day as I entered the lunchroom, my heart sunk to the pit of my stomach when I saw where Edward's table was. It was dead center in the middle of the room and it was crowded and the people there simply looked obnoxious. I was determined not to make a fool out of myself so I sauntered over like I owned the place and plopped down next to him.

"Hey," he stated, grinning at me like he'd won the lottery.

I nodded my head, trying to be so _cool_ and ever so indifferent. After thirty seconds, I said to myself _Screw it _and began talking to him.

That's when I realized, _Wow, he's not some jackass, jocky womanizer_. Well, not completely anyway. I hadn't yet realized I was in love with him yet. He just seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I was having a fabulous time talking to him when someone else interrupted Edward.

"Who's the babe?" some kid with blond hair and a baby face asked. He spewed his ham and Swiss sandwich all over some other girl who screamed and ran for the bathroom.

Edward's eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed with the boy talking.

"Mike, this is Bella Swan. Bella, meet Mike Newton."

Mike stuck out his drool covered hand for me to shake so I did. Reluctantly.

You will find out more about that vile Mike Newton later.

I'm still facing the cliffs. Now I'm wondering how in hell I'm going to climb all the way up there without killing myself before I even get to the top. Now that'd be embarrassing.

_Seventeen year old Isabella Swan, daughter of the famed police chief, died while climbing up a 150 foot high cliff. Once she got up there she was going to commit suicide. Kind of ironic, isn't it? It's-it's su-such a tragedy, you know? HAHAHAHAHA! God, that's so fucking funny!_

Jacob said once that the Rez is planning on closing off the cliffs because so many people die up there, whether it's intentional or not. We used to joke that we better kill ourselves up there quick, before they have time to close it. Well, it's not really a joke now, is it, Jacob? As a matter of fact, they're closing it tomorrow.

I sigh; thinking of Jacob makes me depressed. We were best friends all through middle school and he would write me letters when I was in Phoenix. I still have all of them hidden under my bed. Whenever I feel sad, I drag them out and trace the indentations in the paper and feel the rough patches my tears have left there over the past few months.

Jacob died last year of a heart attack.

Yes, it turns out that my sweet, loving best friend Jacob Black was on crack. Who knew? I sure as hell didn't.

Jacob is contributing factor number two. He didn't look like a drug addict but the doctors said he had been on it for several years. I've heard so many stories about people who knew their loved ones were on drugs and were too scared to say anything. Well, that makes you a horrible person. Why would you want someone close to you to die of an overdose or just because they're taking the drug? At least I didn't know. Nobody knew.

I contemplate driving as close to the cliffs as possible but I decide not to. I want to feel the pain. I want to feel the shells biting into my feet. I want to feel the ache of my weak muscles. I want to feel alive.

**Ah yes. Sarcastic, sardonic Bella is always fun to write. In case you haven't already noticed, she's a little OOC. Please review with your ideas and your criticism and your love and your hate. If I get at least fifteen reviews I will continue this story. I accept anonymous reviews so you have no excuses!  
**

**Xoxo becky**


	2. The Trouble With Mike Newton

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

**Thanks for the four reviews, guys. I'm still trudging along with this one cause I just like the idea too damn much lol. **

**WARNING: Mention of rape in this chapter. Don't read if you are easily disturbed but I'm not very descriptive because even I really can't think about it too much.**

_Build me up, bring me down  
just leave me out you name dropper  
Stop trying to catch my eye  
I see you good you forced faker  
Just make it easy  
You're my enemy you fast talker_

_L.E.S Artistes- Santogold- Santogold_

**Chapter Two- The Trouble With Mike Newton**

I'm looking at the rocks again. I'm looking at them with a certain determination in my eyes, something that looks like fire. I hope I look like some movie star, but I know that will never happen. My face is too plain, too ordinary to be compared to a movie star.

My face is not something I'm proud of. It wasn't that pretty in the first place but, because of my clumsiness that I have somehow not managed to control in my seventeen years of life, I have several scars crisscrossing across my face.

One is from when my cat, Fuffykins (no, not really. Are you kidding me?) _Sammie_, was just a kitten. She didn't exactly… take to my presence, shall we say? She barely missed my eye and instead clawed through the skin right above my eyebrow. I had to have nine stitches!

Another is from my dog, Luke, when he was going through his "angry phase" as Renee so delicately puts it. I snort just thinking about it. Luke's angry phase lasted his entire life. The scar almost follows my jaw line perfectly, stretching from a little left of my right ear to my chin.

Now that I think about it, several of my pets gave me scars….

The worst one is from when Jake and I fixed up a couple of motorcycles. We went for a ride and I smashed into a tree causing a large gash to form on my left cheek. It healed fine but now there's an angry, pinkish-reddish, rough, uneven scar taking up half of my cheek.

So along with the scars that run wild all over my face, there's just my face in general. I have very ordinary brown eyes, white, nearly translucent, pale skin, annoyingly wavy brown hair, and a crooked nose. Nothing makes it interesting or different. Nothing makes it movie star worthy.

That's probably part of the reason why I never bother to doll myself up. I'm ugly anyway, why bother?

That motorcycle accident happened my first few weeks at school. It made me abnormal, a topic of conversation. Once they realized I was still just ordinary, slightly _abrasive _Bella, they left me alone.

Part of the reason I'm now in love with Edward is because he didn't stare. He never, _ever _stared. I finally felt normal.

I smile at the thought but then my thoughts turn sour.

There was only one other person who never stared at my face. He stared at my body.

Can you guess who that freak is? I mentioned him before, in case you don't remember.

Yes, Mike Newton, AKA: Contributing Factor Number Three.

Mike seemed nice enough from the beginning. He didn't notice my scars and, at first, he didn't notice me. After that introduction from Edward, he didn't speak with me.

Until… Jane Volturi and her twin, Alec, made fun of me for my scars. Everyone did, of course, but they did it behind my back. Jane and Alec were the only ones who said it to my face.

After Mike yelled at them for a little bit, he turned back to me and smiled.

"Sorry about those two. They always seem to be making fun of someone." I knew for a fact this wasn't true. Edward told me they were nice people and usually didn't make fun of anyone. But I appreciated the effort.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Mike, for sticking up for me and all that." I didn't know what a creeper he was until a week later.

"Hey, Bella!" Mike screamed from behind me, causing me to jump high into the air. "Sorry!" he chuckled, not sounding sorry at all.

"Mike, you should know better!" I scolded him. He knew I didn't like being scared.

"You look gorgeous when you're frightened and angry," he whispered, taking a step forward, immediately in my personal bubble.

I slowly backed away but he followed, putting his hands on my shoulders and slowly sliding them down to my chest.

I jumped away from him. "Back off, Mike. I don't want to be touched," I warned him and whirled away from him, jogging to my Trig class.

He kept up easily.

"Come on, babe," he pleaded, stepping in front of me and I slammed into chest. He held me there, holding me tightly as I tried to wriggle away from his warm, clammy grasp. "You know you like it as much as me," he taunted.

"No! I don't! Stay away from me!" I screamed. I was getting truly frightened for the first time. The bell had already rung and everyone was already in class, except for the stoners in the bathroom.

"Why should I? I'm strong and faster than you. I can do whatever I want with you, slut," he growled, slamming me into a locker. I whimpered.

He leaned into me, grinding against me.

"NO! Stop! Please, help!" I screamed desperately, struggling against his iron hold.

"Hey, man. That's not cool. Let the girl go," a man's voice rumbled from down the hall. We both looked at the stoner emerging from the bathroom at the end of this secluded hallway. The stranger walked over and plucked Mike off of me as easily as swatting an annoying mosquito off his arm.

"Thank you," I whispered, still trembling against the locker.

"I wasn't going to do anything," Mike grumbled angrily.

"Sure you weren't. That's why this poor girl is crying and pleading for you to stop. Go away, pest," he said sarcastically and hit Mike on the head.

When he was gone, I turned to my mysterious savior. "Thank you so much," I cried, suddenly collapsing against him. "He was too strong for me!" I choked out.

"Shh, I know. It's okay."

He never did tell me his name and I never saw him again.

Unfortunately, I did see Mike.

A fist pounded angrily against the door that night.

"Dad?" I called as I opened the door. "Did you forget your key…?" I trailed off as I looked into the face of Mike Newton.

"No, I'm not your dad. You can call me daddy if you want to, though," Mike said with a wink. I backed away stupidly, leaving the entrance wide open for him to enter.

"Stop right now, Newton. I'll call the police!" I said, running for the phone. He was by my side in an instant.

"I wouldn't do that," he said, grabbing my wrists. "Come with me," he ordered, dragging me up the stairs.

I'll spare you the details but the last thing you want your father to see is you naked, tied to the bed with your bra and panties, and screaming bloody murder as some rapist breaks your virginity.

Dad's immediate reaction was to cover his eyes, but when he realized I wasn't going along with it willingly, he pulled out the gun he still had on his hip, pointed it at Newton (from now on I will always call Newton, Newton because he doesn't deserve a first name) and said,

"If you don't want to get shot, I'd suggest pulling out of my daughter, putting on some pants and walking into these handcuffs, you son of a bitch."

Who knew Charlie could be a badass?

After Dad took Newton to the police station, he came back up to see me. I was sitting up in my pajamas.

We sat on my bed for a few minutes, silent.

"You okay?" he asked simply.

I nodded in response and fell into his shoulder. He wrapped his strong arms around me when I started crying.

**Sorry this is taking so long, guys. I'll try to update faster but since school is starting soon, I really can't guarantee anything. Please review. I don't care if it's good or bad, I just like knowing that someone has an intense enough reaction to review! **


	3. Forest Fire

Disclaimer: I own nothing Twilight and therefore that should imply I am not Stephenie Meyer. Sighhh…

**Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! I got seven this time! **

**Just to let you know, I have this story planned out, not written, so there are going to be FOURTEEN chapters total. Did you get that? FOURTEEN CHAPTERS TOTAL! Wait, maybe fifteen if I do an EPOV. Okay, now on with the story!**

_Go Ahead, you know you want it  
You'll have no other way  
you just want to take us down  
go ahead,  
I'll be the one hit  
If I can take you, boy, it just might throw this town_

_You'll Find A Way-Santogold-Santogold_

**Chapter Three- Forest Fire**

After my rape, Dad made sure Newton is staying in jail for a good ten years. I smirk as I remember Newton boasting that he was older than all of us because he turned eighteen in January. Well, Newton, look where being eighteen landed you; you got tried as an adult!

I laugh out loud. It feels good to laugh for once, even in spite.

Edward was furious when I told him my dark secret.

"Bella! You're not serious! I mean, everyone knew he had a crush on you, but rape? That seems a little… outlandish for Mike," he said. Oh, Edward, always so trusting.

"Trust me," I replied in a dead voice. "It's very true."

"Fuck. That's disgusting. I'll make sure nobody talks to that dick faced fucker again. When he's fucking twenty-eight, I'll make sure everyone fucking kills him. They can't arrest all of us if we all stone him to death, right? And I'm sure Charlie would be right on board with murdering him and with the chief of police on our side, nothing can stop us from killing that bastard," he muttered to himself.

"You're kidding right?"

"Fuck no!" he yelled, drawing the attention of a few passing students, one of them being the new blond girl.

She sauntered over.

"Would you mind keeping your voice down? It's rude to use that sort of language around people," she implored haughtily and poked his shoulder.

I took once glance at Edward and knew he was long gone. He was staring at her designer clothes, her long blond hair, and her curvaceous body. I sighed and pulled self-consciously at my baggy college sweatshirt. **(Remember she's not in love with him yet!)**

"And what is your name, pretty lady?" Edward purred and kissed her outstretched hand.

This girl didn't even blush. She was probably used to boys fawning over her.

"My name is Rosalie, but you may call me Rose. Now could you please tell me why you were cussing so loudly? It's rude, you know." Rosalie, in case you haven't already figured it out, is contributing factor number four.

"Well, my friend, Bella here, just got _raped_," he whispered the last word. "And I was—,"

She interrupted him. "Wait, _she _got raped?"

He nodded.

"Who would want to rape her? She's ugly!" I started. I was right there! She was talking about me like I was just oxygen floating around in the air. "I mean, look at her clothes." She was still talking. What a windbag.

"Come on, hon, let's go somewhere else. Somewhere not populated by people like Bella."

And Edward had gone along with her! I'd thought I was his friend!

Edward and Rosalie dated for about a week. And everyday it was a new insult.

Monday: "Good morning, Bella, darling. Have you ever considered aerobics to take care of that… problem area?" she said, pointing at the fat on my stomach.

Tuesday: "Bella! How are you today, doll face? How would you like to go kill yourself so Edward will stop worrying about you? Then everything will be alright!"

Then they got more direct.

Wednesday: "What is that smell? Oh, Bella's here."

Thursday: "Bella you need a paper bag so I can put it over your head."

On Friday, before she had time to insult me, I tried to insult her.

Friday: "Rosalie, you are a bitch! Stop making fun of me! None of those things are true! I don't smell! I won't kill myself (note to self: don't shout things that will eventually happen)! And I'm perfectly happy with my stomach, thank you very much! So just stop trying to make my self-confidence die because I won't allow it!"

I thought I was so cool for telling her off in front of everyone. Then people would think I was brave

Rosalie started crying. "What are you talking about, Bella? I thought we were friends! You just want to yell at me because nobody cares about your little scam to rid the world of Mike Newton! That's right everyone; Bella's a _liar_!"

That's when my brilliant brain deduced that we had always been alone when she insulted me. I had no witnesses so now everyone thought I was being a bitch to the new girl and that I was hoping for attention when I told a few people I had been raped by Newton and that's why he wasn't coming to school.

She had finally beaten me. She made me a fool in front of my classmates and a dirty liar in front of my friends.

I pushed through the throng of people our shouting match had attracted and began to sob on a bench near the entrance of the school. I soon felt a presence in front of me.

Edward.

"Edward, you have to know that none of it's true! It's not! I swear! I was telling the truth. I was raped by Newton!"

"I know! I broke up with that, that… thing. Nobody deserves what you've been through, Bella."

Little did he know I was going to go through a lot more.

"Edward… just… thank you, for being there, you know?"

I've begun the long trek up the cliff. I have to stop every few seconds because the rocks are pointy and dig into my feet. I consider going back and maybe getting some shoes but I decide not to.

"Don't be a coward. Edward doesn't want you in his life anymore. It's time to rid the world of one more nuisance," I whisper to myself and continue to climb in long, uneven strides.

**Stupid Rosalie! Please review! It makes me happy.  
**


	4. I'm really sorry

**Hey guys.**

**Just to let you know, I'm going on an extended vacation from fanfic. **

**I just started high school and the workload increased to like, ten times what I'm used to (or at least Spanish did.) But basically my focus right now is on work, not writing stories about my two favorite fictional characters… B+E if you haven't figured it out.**

**I might come back in a week, a month, a year, or never! I don't know!**

**Sorry, and you can still contact me via PMing.**

**Becky**


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